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[e_delmar]

Ain't nothin' but a normal room. Pretty one, too, if'n you don't think too hard on what's goin' on in there. Ennis' sleeping more now, at least -- the drugs help with that -- but he's still awake a lot (and damn grumpy about it, too. But he ain't no less grumpy about the sleep, neither).

But he's there, and at least that's something.

Comments

[e_delmar]

May seem absurd, but it makes him happy, so just go with it a bit. He nods, smiling up at her even if he can't see her with his eyes shut.

"You been keepin' out of trouble and all?"

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I have," she says, sincerely, and it hasn't always been the truth but it's true enough these days.

[e_delmar]

He don't say good -- he means to, but instead coughs come out and he rolls off to the side, hiding his face from her.

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

Bev winces slightly, and squeezes his hand, and waits until the coughing fit passes before she speaks again, low.

"Are you--I mean--you're pretty sick, aren't you?"

[e_delmar]

Ennis squeezes back, almost embarrassed to be so grateful for the touch. He opens his eyes, shining from the tears (from the coughing, y'know, throat may be dry but tears always find their way out somehow) and looks up at her and that smile's long gone, replaced with nothing but a serious look, a grown-up look, one he wouldn't normally be giving somebody that age.


And he nods at her.

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

That's okay. The look Bev's giving him back is a lot older than fourteen.

"How sick?"

[e_delmar]

"You know 'bout cancer?"


It's calm and quiet, assessing.

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

Bev can't entirely keep her face from crumbling, though she makes an effort.

"Yeah."

[e_delmar]

"Got that."


Not gettin' that treated, not working through it. Just got it.

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

"Are--" she pauses, faltering. "Are you gonna be okay?"

[e_delmar]

He gives her a light lopsided smile.

"Ain't that kinda thing."

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

Bev can't return the smile. She looks down and away, swallowing hard.

She doesn't know about death, really, not like this. There were the kids It killed, and the occasional distant relative of hers who's died, but never anything like this. She's never sat by someone's side holding their hand and knowing they're going to die.

"I want it to be."

[e_delmar]

But she is now, and he squeezes that hand, tryin' to put all the happy he's got in it.






It ain't that much.

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

Bev squeezes back, and tries to blink her eyes clear and swallow past the lump in her throat, because she's not the one who should be taking comfort right now.

"Thank you," she says finally, voice low. "For--"

For cigarettes and milkshakes and showing her how to carve and remembering her after he was gone for a while, and after she was, and for just being a familiar face when she was stuck here, and being like her dad, but not, and--

"--for being my friend."

[e_delmar]

And Ennis smiles like he gets that, and he squeezes her hand again and shakes his head just a little.





"Thank you."

[bev-marsh.livejournal.com]

Beverly manages a faint, slightly wavery smile in return.

She doesn't know what else to say, but she sits there a while longer, holding his hand, until Ennis's eyes are closed and his breath evens and slows. She's not sure if he's really asleep or not, but she stands, laying the hand she holds back on the blanket. Another few moments there, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek, and she's gone.